


Symphony

by annabagnell



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 21:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4237752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabagnell/pseuds/annabagnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They danced close together, Sherlock tucked against John and moving slowly. “So, that’s it, then,” John murmured, holding Sherlock close and leading their dance. “Married, rings and everything.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Symphony

**Author's Note:**

  * For [downdeepinside](https://archiveofourown.org/users/downdeepinside/gifts).



> A little sweet thing while I work on other things. A gift for my friend Tasha who is having a bit of a rough time.

Though they’d been bonded for a good long while, neither John nor Sherlock had any desire for a formal marriage ceremony until they found out they were going to have a child. Suddenly, and likely brought on by their desire to photograph Sherlock’s pregnancy, they wanted to have other photos to one day show their child - like photos of their wedding day, where they would be surrounded by friends and family.

There just wasn’t any good way to plan a wedding quickly, so despite Sherlock’s initial reluctance to have a wedding so late in his pregnancy, their big day arrived smack dab in the middle of Sherlock’s 35th week.

“I look horrendous,” the Omega complained, tugging his shirt over his belly and trying to convince his trousers to settle someplace not quite so dangerously low. He uttered a quiet ‘oomph’ when the baby - a daughter, they’d learned - twisted and kicked inside him, the motion making his waistband roll down again. He frowned at John, who could only laugh.

“She takes after you, you know. It’ll be fine, love. Nobody expects you to look stick-thin today. You’re beautiful like this. Don’t worry.” John stepped forward and smoothed his hands over Sherlock’s sides, cupping his belly and stretching upward to plant a kiss on Sherlock’s frowning mouth.

Sherlock harrumphed and pushed John back good-naturedly. “Yes, well. It doesn’t mean I have to enjoy looking like a blimp at my wedding ceremony.”

“You don’t have to enjoy it,” John chirped, heading back to the mirror to do up his tie. “I will, but that’s another story. Now, go have a sit for awhile. Your back’s going to hurt if you stand all day.”

“No it won’t,” Sherlock grumped, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at John. The Alpha merely shrugged and shook his head, giving himself a mental pat on the back for achieving a windsor knot on his tie on only his second attempt.

* * *

They had their wedding in a small church, mainly to appease Sherlock’s parents. It was simply decorated, with flowers around the altar, and only a few people sitting in the first few rows of pews. Their landlady, sniffling delicately as Mrs. Holmes patted her arm, and DI Lestrade as well as a few of John’s friends from the pub.

John stood in front of the altar, Mike Stamford at his side, and clasped his hands behind his back as he waited for Sherlock to join him. When the music started and the doors opened, John didn’t bother to hold back the tears in his eyes at the sight of his mate walking toward him.

Sherlock was wearing a deep purple shirt and a fitted paternity suit jacket, open in the front and draping over his sides. He carried a bouquet of flowers that rested on the crest of his belly, half as tradition and half to mask his size, which he was still reluctant to show off. He offered John a small smile as he walked forward, handing off his bouquet of flowers to his mother as he passed her. She took them with a sniffle and leaned against her husband, who smiled brilliantly at his son.

John took Sherlock’s hands and grinned at him, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Hey there,” he murmured, meeting Sherlock’s gaze.

“All this pomp and ceremony for something so silly,” Sherlock murmured, and John elbowed him in the side as they turned to begin the ceremony.

It was a short service, due in part to their mutual desire for a small ceremony and in order to accommodate Sherlock, who was already shifting uneasily after the first few minutes. John reached over to rub his lower back, and Sherlock bit his lip a little as John rubbed at a knot. Both men heard coos from behind them at John’s tender care, and turned to each other to roll their eyes a little at the sound.

John and Sherlock shared a slightly less-than-chaste kiss when the officiant ended the ceremony, to titters and light applause from those in attendance. Sherlock was flushed but radiant as they turned to face their family and friends, and with a smile Sherlock drew John’s hand to his belly, where the baby was kicking gently. John grinned and kissed him, and they headed down the aisle.

Their reception was just downstairs, so after their photos everyone joined together for a little celebration. There was more applause when Sherlock and John appeared at the head table, and Sherlock sank gratefully into his chair so they could tuck into their meals.

Though their reception was informal, John had insisted that they have a first dance, and several after it, if only for the benefit of their guests. He dragged a reluctant and slightly achy Sherlock out of his chair and onto the dance floor, and the first strains of a violin melody played.

They danced close together, Sherlock tucked against John and moving slowly. “So, that’s it, then,” John murmured, holding Sherlock close and leading their dance. “Married, rings and everything.”

“I still don’t understand why we got rings, when I’ll have to take mine off for experiments and you’ll have to take yours off for shifts at the office,” Sherlock grumbled, and John poked him.

“Because I want people to know we’re married, not just bonded. It’s a - status symbol, or something. Even if we can’t wear them all the time.” Sherlock shook his head but settled his chin on John’s head, lapsing into silence.

As the song started to shift into its last movement, the Omega spoke up again. “My back hurts,” he said quietly, admitting aloud the pain John knew he’d been feeling for some time.

“I know. Here, let me -“ John pulled away from Sherlock for just a moment, just long enough to move behind his mate and slot himself against Sherlock’s back. He slid his arms around Sherlock’s waist and laced his fingers with the detective’s, cupping his belly tenderly. “Let me help a bit,” he finished, head resting against Sherlock’s shoulders, swaying back and forth with Sherlock in his arms.

The quiet talking from their guests faded away, until all that was left for John and Sherlock was their closeness, John holding Sherlock safe and warm, and the soft strains of the violin in the background - a symphony that spoke of their union far more than any pair of gold bands ever would.


End file.
